


Holiday Quirks

by Kankri, SouthPark



Category: South Park
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kankri/pseuds/Kankri, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthPark/pseuds/SouthPark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holiday - centric Eric/Wendy drabbles for the holiday season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday Quirks

**Author's Note:**

> A disconnected collection of Candy drabbles, inspired by a meme on Tumblr, and written for an old ex - roleplay partner Syd.

December is literally the worst fucking month of the year, and Cartman has decided he will be goddamned if he is expected to get out of bed and face the cold today. But around noon, he is forced to do exactly that, since his mom had Scott both had already left for work.  He props open the front door, bundled in a blanket, and deadpans. It isn't that he's not happy to see Wendy -- who isn't happy to see their girlfriend, after all? -- but she's in a stupid light-up sweater, and holding another one over her arm. Today sucks already.

* * *

After bitching about Wendy's not-so-choice options, Cartman declared himself the movie guru and had sent Wendy to the kitchen to fetch them some snacks.  Twenty minutes later, both regret their decisions horribly.  Wendy had tried to make some traditional hot cocoa, skipping on the powdered crap and going straight to chocolate bars and milk, and Cartman was buried under a pile of shitty not-holiday movies. And so with reluctance, they both decide that you just can't get sick of A Christmas Story, and just maybe the instant stuff isn't an abomination. Cozy together, they waste the afternoon with meaningless kisses.

* * *

"In the chill afternoon, the polar bear stalks his prey." With an almost feral grin, Cartman takes up another handful of snow to pack it onto the ball he currently holds.  It's of a decent size now, and Wendy is currently sidetracked, watching as their kittens both take their first steps in the soft white powder.  This leaves him the perfect opportunity.  "As he nears his unsuspecting victim, he prepares for the attack."  He rears back his arm, closing an eye and sticking out his tongue to take aim, then lets the ball sail. Into the back of her head.

* * *

Token's Christmas parties are the most elaborate ones in the town, and almost everyone shows up with or without invitation.  It's filled with perfect opportunities to get cozy with your honey in a bed that even the most luxurious hotels can't possibly offer you.  Cartman is no exception to the inviting-myself guest list, despite Wendy's bitching and reluctance. He's standing off to the side with a glass of cider, cracking a joke with Kenny when he notices Wendy and Stan passing under the mistletoe.  Oh, Hell no. He makes haste to get there first, pulling Wendy into a showy kiss.

* * *

Wendy unloads a large box from the trunk of the car that jingles and clinks when she walks, and Cartman eyes her suspiciously, but she walks past him without acknowledgement.  She drops it in the entryway, and almost immediately frees a lengthy string of Christmas lights, and begins measuring their length against the left wall, calling, "Please get some thumbtacks for me, thank you!" over her shoulder. "December thirteenth, and the house is still empty.  I know Scott has his OCD issues, so I put in special efforts to ensure there's enough of everything to cater to it."  She beams.

* * *

Wendy may cater to everyone else's wishes and peculiarities, but there isn't a chance in Hell that he's going to do the same. He isn't a damn pussy, and he's going to decorate the tree the way it was meant to be decorated: sporadically.  Tinsel gets tossed carelessly over random branches, baubles are hung wherever he damn well feels like it, and he even sets the centerpiece a little to the left. And then he steps back to admire his handiwork while behind him, Wendy sighs heavily, rubbing at her temples.  The next hour is spent fixing the damn tree.

* * *

Wendy props open the stove door, and slides out the rack to baste the turkey, and within a few seconds, she can feel the heavy and warm weight of Cartman against her back, breathing down her neck as he scopes out their dinner.  "No," she repeats for what must have been the seventh time this afternoon, "it's not done yet, and no, you can't taste test it.  Go sit down, and get the next movie started, and I'll bring you a piece of pie." And with a pleased sound that makes her laugh, Cartman disappears into the living room again.

* * *

"Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling, too ..."  Wendy settles herself into Eric's lap, and taps a finger against the side of his jaw.  "Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you."  He crinkles his nose despite being obviously pleased with the position, and rolls his eyes skyward.

  
"Outside the snow is falling, and friends are calling, yoohoo.  Come on it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you." He shake his head once he finishes his monotone addition, but the fact he is rewarded with a kiss ceases his overdramatic display, for a while.

* * *

The egg beater is obnoxiously loud, and Eric is clearly not at all interested in the continued usage of it.  He flicks it off with a muttered, "Good enough," and sets it on the counter near the sink. He goes through the mashed potatoes with a spoon instead, checking the consistency to make sure they at least resembled mashed potatoes, and while he is pleased to note that they do, they also remind him of the snow outside. With a streak of mischievous intent, he empties the spoon into his palm, and promptly smears it into Wendy's hair, giggling ractuously.

* * *

"... And how many glasses of eggnog did you have so far, Eric?" Wendy inquires as she pours two more -- one for herself, and one for him.  She peers over her shoulder, watching as he tilts his head in thought and ends up veering to the side right along with it, and she can't help but laugh.  There is nothing more ridiculous than watching your boyfriend in his first drunken haze try to make sense of legible thought.

  
"I'unno." He snaps back up in his seat before slumping forward.  A pause.  "Not enough," he finally concludes, and takes the offered cup.

* * *

Dressed up in a Santa outfit, Cartman settles himself in the recliner, declaring a deep, "Ho ho ho!" that gets an eyeroll and a laugh out of Wendy.  It has become a tradition of sorts that they play out this absolutely ridiculous scenario precisely five days before Christmas.  He sits in the chair and pulls on his fake beard while she sits on his lap and whispers into his ear all the things she would like him to do for her this Christmas, and he deems whether or not he feels like catering to them. And every year, he has.

  
And to partake in another holiday tradition following the lovely Christmas night, they remain in bed for most of the day in their pajamas, watching whatever crappy rerun movies are on the basic cable on the TV in their bedroom.  They sing along to the stupid holiday jingles in the commercials advertising their blowout sales now that the hype is over, and rock-paper-scissors for who will have to get up and get food.  Lazy kisses and a round of slow lovemaking make up the afternoon, and they finally both get up for dinner, if only to keep each other's company.

 


End file.
